totally sucky day

So.

Today was just as horrible as I thought it must be.

The worst was when I was setting up the food at their house for the reception after the funeral, and everything there, EVERYTHING, was a reminder that an 8 year old used to live there. The fridge was full of back-to-school reminders. The pantry was full of kids' lunch snacks. They'd just installed an above-ground pool. Toys and such were scattered over the backyard and throughout the house. The calendar still had entries on it like "John's surgery". There was a picture of the family taken at Busch Gardens a few weeks before, that the mom had put on the counter. How can you know what the future will bring? What things in my life that seem trivial now will hold such emotion tomorrow? What pictures from today that are an afterthought will bring tears to a stranger tomorrow?

Kath and I went to the funeral, then did what we could to help at the house, then left and gorged on Sonic cheeseburgers and wine. I even ordered onion rings.
There is nothing about this that is really OK.

But because we seem to need them, here are some things that can be perceived as good that come from this:

All of the moms that were touched by this are totally into hugging their kids and remembering how blessed we are right now. Other than the perspective of my children who are wondering why I can't leave them alone, this is a good thing.

When I asked myself why I was putting myself through this horror, particularly since I didn't know the family personally that well, really, the answer came amazingly easily.
I am a mother.

There is a connection between mothers and the love that we have for our children that is more powerful than words can describe. When I see another mother hurt, I hurt. I needed to be there to let her know that I understood her pain.

Another good thing: His teachers from grades K-this year were all there for his family. His first grade teacher wrote an eloquent letter to his family which they asked her to read. My children are in an amazingly loving and caring environment that is filled with the most amazing teachers in the universe. I love our school.

It takes a village.

And when a dependent of that village is lost, the entire village loses.

John Phillip Luna - you were a part of my community, and you will be missed.